


Nightmares

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Bloodmagic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Gore, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 22:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4116532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian has a bad dream and isn't quite sure how to handle it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

The room was dark, Dorian knew something was wrong the moment he stepped into it. There was an odd power radiating from it, he could feel it even from the other side of the door. He swallowed the lump in his throat. _This is my home_ , he thought to himself walking through the threshold, _I am safe here_. Somehow he did not believe himself. 

The smell. The smell was definitely the worst part. The smell of congealed blood, cold on the floor painting arcane patterns, intricate and ancient. It etched itself into his mind, the smell staining his memory darker than the blood did the floor. It seemed to block out all his other senses. In moments, though it felt like an eternity, his eyes adjusted to the dark of the room. Piled unceremoniously in the corner were three bodies. They were slaves, their bodies where twisted and it seemed there wasn't an inch of them that wasn't bleeding. 

He could only see ones face. It was ivory with lack of blood, translucent in a way that made it almost seem as if it was glowing in the dark room. It was a woman, with copper hair and emerald eyes. He remembered her. He remembered all of their slaves. He was kind to them, it did not change the fact that they were slaves, but they were also people and deserved to be treated as such. Her name was Drina, she liked to hum while she gardened, and would bring him tea late in the night when he lost himself in his studies, forgetting to sleep. She had a beautiful smile.

Dorian stared at her, it was all he could make himself do. The air was like fire against his skin, making him sweat, but he felt cold. Fear taking his heart in its vice like grip. His throat was full of bile that he had to swallow down as he opened his mouth. Was he going to scream? Speak? He did not know. He did not know what he wanted to do or what he was going to do. The candles in the room burst to life, casting light on the walls, revealing more glyphs painted in blood, and his father spoke from behind him. 

"It's going to be ok Dorian, we can fix you."

"I'm not broken!" he wanted to say, to shout, to scream at the top of his lungs but it didn't come out. He was frozen in terror. This was his father, the man he spent his entire life practically worshiping. Why was this happening? Why him? He always did what he was told, he was clever, passionate, intelligent. He could talk circles around his teachers, he could charm the most dour of nobles. He was everything he was told he should be. But still he was broken. He could never be what his father wanted of him. He would only ever bring shame to house Pavus. 

There were hands on him and he finally acted. He went to fight pooling his magic, but a flash of pain and his head was swimming. There was blood in his mouth, and his nose was broken he was sure. He's not sure when he ended up on the floor but his father stood above him. He's saying something, his face set in a sad determination, but the words don't make it past the ringing in his ears. Everything hurts, his arms are warm and damp and when he looks they are slit from his wrist to his elbow. 

Panic. That's all he felt next. The fear, the anger, the sorrow, it was all consumed by the dying need to escape. _Please anything but this_. He didn't want to change. He wanted to close his eyes and pretend this wasn't happening. That his father wouldn't do this. _The resort of the weak mind_. That's what he had taught him, but now, he would risk Dorian, his son, risk everything Dorian was, and for what? 

Dorian wakes from his dream with a jolt so violent he almost launched himself from bed and _no_ poised on his lips ready to be screamed, to be begged, pleading for a different fate. His chest feels tight and he's breathing in rapid gasping breaths. He's choking on an overwhelming sense of panic and the memory of a smell. He clenched his eyes shut and counted to ten until his heart slowed slightly. With a slow exhale of a breath he didn't realize he was holding he slowly opened his eyes. The view of stars in the sky above him was a reminder that he was not in his room.

A soothing hand settled on his shoulder, stroking his arm with surprisingly gentle fingers. He looked over at the man next to him. Even in the darkness of the night he was beautiful. Golden and strong and noble. Passionate and stalwart. He was beautiful and everything right in the world. But looking at him now filled Dorian with a sense of wrongness. He was everything Dorian ever wanted, but should not have. 

"Dorian?" Cullen said, his voice raw with sleep, he rubbed at his eyes as they adjusted to the dark. 

This was there first night together. Hopefully not their last. They had been tiptoeing around this for some time now. Dorian would flirt, Cullen would blush and stammer, occasionally try to flirt back, but until recently it never seemed there could be more than that. He's not sure what changed in there relationship. Maybe nothing change, maybe this was what it always was leading to, but Cullen made his move. It was dreadfully romantic, with wine, flowers, and candles. All very Ferelden. 

They played chess in the Commander's office, something they had done so many times before, but that time instead of his armor, which Dorian was half certain he had somehow grafted to himself with how often he wore it, Cullen wore plain looking trousers and a soft cotton tunic that hung from his body just right. The room was filled with candles casting them both in warm light. They laughed and smiled, finding an peace with each other. Their hands would brush occasionally and where in the past Dorian would recoil he lingered, letting their fingers tangle together.

Cullen had kissed him. A chaste gentle thing. Dorian kissed him back, less chaste and gentle. Slowly from their they made their way to bed, hands and mouths exploring each others bodies. Dorian wasn't used to slow, or gentle. He was used to rushed secret encounters that both parties would pretend never happened the moment they were over. He was used to expecting nothing and getting less. He was not used to having someone offer him everything he was told he would never have. He wasn't used to Cullen, who was watching him with expectant eyes, waiting for a response to an unasked question. 

"It's nothing, I didn't mean to wake you," he said, making to sit up but Cullen gently grabbed his arm.

"Are you leaving?" his eyes are full of worry.

"You're the Commander of the Inquisition," Dorian started, pulling his arm out of Cullen's soft grasp, grabbing his pants and small clothes from nearby to start redressing. "You need all the rest you can get, wouldn't do you much good to have someone waking you up in the middle of the night now would it?" His shirt, where was his shirt. Right, at the bottom of the ladder, where they had paused for a good snogging before climbing up to the bed. 

"Dorian," Cullen said, more firmly this time. "What's wrong? You don't have to go, not unless you want to," he paused to yawn. "Please, talk to me."

Dorian hesitated, one boot hastily pulled onto the wrong foot. He took a deep breath. He didn't want to leave, but that feeling of panic still coursed in his veins, telling him to run, though he wasn't entirely sure what from. He kicked his boot back off and let Cullen pull him back into bed, back into his arms. He laid there listening to the rhythm of Cullen's heart, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. As time passed he was fairly certain Cullen had fallen back asleep. What he wouldn't give to feel the pull of the fade, to drift away into what would hopefully be a dreamless slumber. 

"You had a bad dream?" Cullen's voice broke the silence, causing Dorian to tense in his grasp for a moment. Somehow it was framed as both a statement and a question. 

"It doesn't matter, go back to sleep Cullen," he doesn't know why he's angry, he doesn't know why his voice sounds so bitter.

"Are you going to be ok?" Is he? He's not entirely sure. He thought he left these feelings behind long ago on the other side of the border to his former homeland. Yet here they were, haunting him in what should be a perfectly content night in the arms of a handsome man. Cullen waited patiently for response, hands tracing soothing patterns on his back. 

"It was just a dream...." he started, but it felt like a lie. It would be easy to lie. Act like he didn't know why he was having this dream, but he did. It was his self destructive mind, telling him that this isn't ok, that he shouldn't be letting himself have this. No matter how many times he told himself he deserved to be happy, that it was ok to hope for more, he could still hear the bitter words of his homeland telling him he was an abomination for wanting to love another man. He could still see the disgust in his fathers eyes. He could still smell the blood spilled in hopes to change him into anything, anyone, else. 

"You don't have to tell me. I won't make you talk about it if you don't want to. Just know that if you do, want to talk that is, I'm here for you," Cullen gave his a reassuring squeeze, and he felt himself relax a little. This was his home now. He felt safe here. Safe in Skyhold, safe with the Inquisition, and safe in Cullen's arms. It was more than a dream, it was a memory that would haunt him no matter how far he ran from it, and he wasn't ready to talk about it, he wouldn't even know where to begin, but for now, he was ok. 

"Thank you."

**Author's Note:**

> I seriously am the worst at coming up with summaries and titles, but I digress. I saw a prompt on tumblr about Dorian having a nightmare and Cullen comforting him. Kinda left out the comforting part because I got really distracted by the angst. Anyway I'm fairly exhausted and this is unbeta'd so there's probably mistakes. I also wrote this mostly in the way that I speak to see how it would flow, I actually fairly like it but there's also a ton of run on and half sentences. I'm rambling now, so I think I'll just stop. 
> 
> Please enjoy and thank you for reading. You can find me on tumblr [here](http://av-mello.tumblr.com/) if you feel so inclined.


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